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"I was – er – that is, I had hopes of meeting you," the young man confessed, with a betraying blush.
The blush made the freckles that starred the bridge of his nose stand out vividly, and his blue eyes studied her with anxious interest. Maria
"Ah, begorra, had you indeed?"
M. Victor's prominent jaw dropped. For a moment he looked as if he would protest. Then he let out a long sigh.
"Ah, faith, and it's found me out you have. And surely ye won't be betraying me to the Duchess, angel of kindness that you must be, with a heavenly face like the one you have on you?"
"I am sure Her Grace already knows," Maria
"Indeed it's proud I am to be a son of Erin! But… the world is a foolish place, bedad, and there's no denying that an Irish tutor does not have the prestige of a Frenchie."
"That may be true, monsieur… What am I to call you then?"
"Victor is me name; indeed, me lie is only a wee bit of a half-lie, for me dear mither was French. Call me Victor, without the monsieur, and you'll honor me for life."
"Thank you. But why were you hoping to meet me?"
"I wished to offer me services as a guide. I know this crumbling old bin like the back o' me hand. Bedad, there's little enough to do here but read the old histories of the place. So, if you would enjoy a tour of the premises, consider me your man."
"But aren't you supposed to be teaching?" Maria
Victor's eyes twinkled slyly. "All work and no play makes Henry a dull boy. It's a dull boy he is altogether, hardly worth me talents as a teacher."
"It is kind of you," Maria
She left the young man looking downcast. Even if she had not had other things on her mind, she would not have been eager to go wandering off with him. His comment about his pupil's dullness had struck a sour note. He had no right to feel himself on such confidential terms with her.
As the day wore on, however, she almost regretted she had not accepted the tutor's offer, for the hours had to be filled somehow, and the Duchess was busy with household matters. There were always details of this nature to settle when she came north, since neither of the other ladies had the interest or the ability to deal with them. So Maria
The day was unusually mild, so she finally settled down under the rose arbor with a piece of needlework. In that sheltered spot, situated to the south of the castle and shielded by plantings of firs, a few late roses lingered. Maria
So thoroughly had her new idol filled her thoughts that she studied the lawyer with a cool dispassionate eye and wondered how she could have found him handsome. Not that he was actually ugly. His height, his form, and the vigor of his walk were attractive enough. But dark-brown hair was so dull, compared to golden locks.
He came to a stop before her. "The servants told me I would find you here."
"Did they?" Maria
"That would be a pity. You make such a charming picture – a golden-haired lady in a white gown, framed in clusters of roses. The roses are almost gone, of course, but a romantic imagination like mine can easily supply them."
"You are making fun of me," Maria
"Not at all. I have as keen an eye for beauty as any man."
"What are you doing here? Business, I suppose."
"Your business." Carlton adjusted the crease in his fawn trousers and took a seat.
"Mine? But I have none."
"Perhaps business is not quite the right word. Your affairs, I should say."
"Well?"
Carlton reached out his hand and plucked a rose. He let out a little exclamation as the flower came into his hand. "A pity such beautiful flowers have thorns," he said, looking with mock dismay at a tiny bead of blood on his thumb.
"I am in a hurry," Maria
"But it can't be told in a sentence. I want to talk with you at length."
"Then it will have to wait. We are having a guest for di
"Quite a royal 'we,' I must say. Who is this guest?"
"The… the clergyman," Maria
"St. John?" To her a
"And you," Maria
"Duty called," Carlton said solemnly.
"You are impossible! Please excuse me."
"Don't you even want to know what business I meant to discuss with you?"
"No. Unless…" Maria
For once she was unaware of the lovely picture she presented, with emotion darkening her eyes and the sunlight caressing the graceful lines of her body and arms. The young lawyer took a long, shaken breath before replying.
"No, no. Not the sort of news you are dreading. It can wait."
"Well." In her relief Maria
Carlton nodded dumbly. With another gracious smile Maria
He sat under the rose arbor for some time, his brow furrowed, meticulously stripping the petals from the rose, careless of its thorns. When he finally returned to the house the ground beside his chair was strewn with the soft pink petals of the murdered flower.
It need not be said that Maria
Her lateness was not a matter of calculation, but the inevitable result of prolonged primping. Most of the others were assembled in the drawing room when she made her entrance.
The room was extravagantly lighted by lamps and candles and by two great fires. Such light is flattering; Maria